


The Time My Best Friend Brought Back a Ghost

by BanhTM



Series: Misc Pokemon [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: A Mystery in History, Friendship, Gen, Shintoism, Sunyshore City, Sunyshore Trio, Supernatural - Freeform, Volkner touched something he shouldn't have
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BanhTM/pseuds/BanhTM
Summary: A midnight walk in the woods yields an unexpected find. Of course, Volkner drags Flint into his mess.
Series: Misc Pokemon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148396
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. The Fourth Path

_Whap. Whap._ The ceiling fan keeps spinning around like a helicopter blade. It's a miracle that ancient thing hasn't fallen yet.

It's awfully quiet at night. Wingulls don't come to crap on your inventions. Nosy tourists don't come to block your Gym when they obviously can't provide you a decent challenge.

Volkner tosses his duvet aside. _Screw it, sleep isn't coming._ Why sleep if he could be doing something great at this very moment? Something new… electrifying… _thrilling._

So Volkner shrugs on his signature blue jacket and slips on his shoes. He thinks about calling Flint, but it's 3:01 am, and that idiot won't wake until 10.

A bright white moon hovers in the starry sky. Sunyshore's geography ensures that conditions will be humid be it morning or night. Volkner had considered building a machine that expels natural aerosols to block the sunlight, but the city council instantly shut down that idea.

The Kricketune sure are noisy tonight. Lampposts gleam like obelisks, streets glisten like black diamonds studded with LED lights. Modern cities require modern solutions, after all.

The northern side of Sunyshore contains a path out of the city. Modernity recedes to sand, then moss. The Kricketunes' song grow distant, muffled, as if suffocated by a thick blanket.

Elders say that this forest was here since ancient times, back in the era of clans and magistrates and child emperors. Sunyshore, or Nagisa as it had been called back then, was the last territory to be incorporated into modern-day Sinnoh.

Red Forest is the name. In Autumn, all the leaves turn dark red as if the trees themselves are bleeding. It's quite a beautiful sight. Flint dragged him out there once because "You've been cooped up in your house for three weeks! You look like a zombie! Get some sunshine, man!"

Volkner chuckles to himself as he rounds an unlit corner. Leaves have poisoned the ground. Wildflowers peek out from behind rotting wood. Sometimes the back of his neck would prickle, but when he turns around, it's only his shadow.

Something crashes down on his right. It's not big enough to be a body, but small and compact. Upon closer inspection, it's… a doll. One that fits snugly in his palm. It's badly made, as if an amateur had rushed to get it finished.

Its expression is particularly ominous.

A strip of zigzag white paper is stuck on the doll's side. No markings. Yet it's still fresh and crisp, showing no mark of age while this doll has clearly seen better days.

Thinking nothing of it, Volkner tears the paper off.

A cold wind blows through the forest. Vines creak loudly as if someone had just brushed past them.

Volkner zips up his sweater. Something is off. He does not recognize this tree. He does not recognize this route, and he has a pretty good memory. Yet, he doesn't remember ever stepping off the beaten path…

Goddamn it, and now even the moon is gone. The universe must have a vendetta against him ever since he tried to manipulate the weather.

Fortunately, he has his flashlight! Built in his belt, in fact. He thrusts his hips to the heavens with both middle fingers raised.

His flashlight dies. Goddamn it, universe.

"Electron, go!"

Electivire's light pierces the shifting darkness. It sees Volkner. And it jumps. Which is odd, considering that it has perfect night vision.

"Electron," Volkner says flatly. His tone never had inflection, but those who know him knows better than to judge him on his manner of speaking alone. "What's wrong, buddy? Something behind me?"

Just his shadow, like before. Yet, Electivire does appear to be quite distraught. It emits a low, strangled whimper.

It's not like Electron to be scared of a little darkness.

Volkner grasps the Pokemon's furry paw. "Okay, I'll lead. Make sure your light doesn't go out."

* * *

Branches snap under their weight with the sound of crunching bones.

"Hey, Electron."

"Bzzt."

"Am I going crazy, or have we been going around in circles?"

Before him is a fork in the road. He had traversed down all three paths, only to return to this very spot. Either everything is connected, or this forest is messing with him.

A colony of toadstools watches him from beneath a brush. Upon closer inspection, those mushrooms are actually an audience of frowning wooden dolls.

Volkner chuckles. "Whoever this prankster is, I should treat them to some renovations."

Electivire is tugging at his arm. It points to the sky, to the rusted red moon. But wasn't the moon _white_ just seconds ago…?

A web of crimson light sprinkles over the foliage. And that's when Volkner realizes that there was a _fourth_ trail. One that leads into parts unknown.

"This is getting interesting…" With a reassuring pat on Electivire's head, he presses onward.

* * *

The moon is right above him, skipping its reflection along the murky streams and stretching shadows to monstrous heights. The air seems to grow oppressively thicker as if he's wading into the belly of the beast.

Electivire is whimpering. _"This is not the way home,"_ it seems to say. _"Turn back."_

But Volkner cannot. Chills are racing down the ridges of his spine like electricity bouncing down an axon terminal. Gooseflesh had formed colonies on his arms. His heart is racing. There is something so ominously thrilling and enticing about following this ghostly light into the unknown.

The trees part like curtains. A red gate, two pillars vertical and three slants horizontal, marks the entrance of a small clearing… One that wouldn't be visible to passing helicopters, yet the canopy is thin enough to allow light to illuminate the ground.

Despite Electivire's protests, Volkner kneels down for a closer look. So much foliage here. Evergreens. Ivy. Holly berries. He dusts aside the cobwebs and spider lilies. More zigzag white papers, this time attached to a thick rope that wounds around a large, lichen-infested boulder.

"Electron, get over here," Volkner hisses. "Help me lift this rock." The Pokemon vehemently shakes its head. He scowls. "I'll let you suck all the electricity from the power plant if you help me."

Electivire reluctantly helps its Trainer remove the seal.

"What's this?"

Volkner reaches into the shallow grave, his fingers encircling a cold, smooth object. White noise momentarily fills his ears. It's a brown vase made of clay. Nothing very noteworthy. He's about to open it when Electivire growls.

"Of course!" Volkner gasps. "What was I thinking?"

Electivire bobs its head, glad that its Trainer finally used his shred of common sense.

"It's no fun opening it by myself!" he cries. "Let's go wake up a certain clown!"


	2. A Disappointing Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Volkner fucks up... or did he?

As soon as Volkner steps over the dilapidated gate, a great wind knocks him off his feet. It's as if the forest had just exhaled a very painful breath.

He hits his head on a patch of spider lilies. Fuzzy flowers blossom at the edges of his vision. Moonlight grows harsher until all is drenched in red.

Suddenly, a sharp pain explodes in his neck as if a ring of barbs had snapped around his throat. It burns as if he's force-fed buckets of lava.

_"Guilty!"_

_"Your Majesty—"_

_"Silence! You have committed a capital offense, and you will face the consequences of your crime!"_

"BZZZT!"

The world finally stops spinning. Electivire carefully pulls its Trainer up from the ground.

When Volkner regains his bearings, his blood runs cold. He's back at the entrance of Red Forest. Sunyshore's skyscrapers are just beyond the valley.

And the moon is back to being a small white ball in the sky.

Volkner gingerly feels his head. No bumps. Still, his brain must've hit his skull at some point. That would explain that weird vision.

Then he remembers the vase in his hands. His purpose. "Electivire!" He shoots up to his feet. "Let's go! We need to show this to that clown!"

And Volkner is gone. Electivire glares long and hard into the dark, dark woods before hurrying to follow its Trainer.

* * *

All the windows are dark. However, that does not stop Volkner from scaling the walls. He picks the lock with his trusty hair pin, and he tumbles into the bedroom of his bestest and reddest friend.

The fans cannot drown out Flint's thunderous snoring. His duvet had been kicked to the floor. He's wearing nothing but his Lopunny-print boxers.

Volkner makes sure his lips are nice and wet before leaning into Flint's ear.

"Knock knock," he purrs.

Flint moans. "Who… whozzuh?"

"Minato."

"Ooohh… your son was lookin' for you…"

Volkner's limited patience runs out. "FIRE!" he bellows.

Flint bolts up. "FIRE! FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Then he sees Volkner on the floor, clutching his stomach as he howls.

"Hey!" Flint barks, a tinge of pink climbing to his cheeks. "How did… ah, nevermind. What do you want? It's… damn, it's only 6 in the morning!"

Volkner stops laughing. It had been only 2 hours… but why does it feel like it's been centuries?

Flint puts on a tank top. "Duuuude." He yawns until tears springs to his eyes. "I know I was against it, but you could really use some sleeping pills. Pulling all-nighters certainly isn't helping your eye bags."

"This is my signature look!"

"You look like a mad scientist."

Volkner smirks. "Look what I got. Cool vase, huh?"

Flint's expression changes from curiosity to surprise to horror within a heartbeat. "V-Volkner." He pronounces the name slowly, as if speaking to a short-tempered child. "Were you grave… were you walking around the cemetery?"

"I'm not _that_ desperate. I picked this baby up in Red Forest."

"The forest that parents warn their kids about?"

"Yup. It was buried beneath a boulder."

Flint opens his mouth. Closes it. He shoves his fists into his boxers. "Volkner. That is an urn."

"A type of vase."

"No. A vase holds flowers and other nice things. An urn holds ashes. Dead people dust."

"How do you know that?"

"I-I cannot believe we are having this conversation right now! Who in their right minds would go _grave robbing_ in the dead of night?! This is a new low, even for you—"

Volkner scowls. "Now don't you make me out to be some loony criminal." He strokes the urn affectionately like how he handles a baby robot. "Flint, I got sparks in my heart when I found this thing. Why was there a vase buried deep in the forest?"

"So people won't find it," Flint replies ruefully.

"No, so people _will_ find it. It's like buried treasure! I say we open this right now!

"NOO! W-What do you mean, _'we?'_ Have you ever played Pandora's Box?"

"I'm not interested in tall tales."

"V-Volkner, I'm warning you…"

"Tch. What makes you think you know what's good for me?"

Flint pales at Volkner's hostile glare. "OKAY! Okay, just... let me make a few preparations."

* * *

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Flint ignores Volkner's question. He blesses the floor with handfuls of ionized salt.

"Why are you wearing a dress?"

Flint scowls. "This is a monk's robe!" He places a big fan on the rug. "This will blow away the hallucinogenic gas that's trapped inside. Remember to hold your breath."

"You are not my mother." 

"Volkner, I'm serious."

"Yeah yeah…" Volkner looks away. In a lower voice, he adds, "I know."

The two best friends sit so close that their knees touch. Flint has prayer beads in one hand and a clove of garlic in the other.

Volkner uses a sharp knife to cut through the ancient, sturdy rope. The lid has been welded on, but he happens to have a saw on hand.

Flint screeches, "AAAAAUGH!"

Volkner cracks open an eye. The fan is still howling in their faces. The sun had risen from beyond the mountains, casting the house in groggy amber light. "Flint, stop screaming." He peers into the urn. Shakes it upside down. Pokes his finger into the chilled and empty hull. A flashlight reveals smooth, untarnished innards.

And Volkner groans. "There's nothing in here!" He dashes the urn across the floor. "What a letdown!"

"A-A _letdown?!"_ Flint scampers to pick the object up. "You could've upset the ghost—"

"Ghosts don't exist!"

"Please put this urn back where you found it. _Please."_

"No can do, pardner." Volkner seizes back his possession. "Finders keepers. I'll find a way to refurbish this somehow."

Flint sighs after seeing that stubborn determination in his best friend's eyes. "Volks, wait. Before you go."

"What?"

"What's that around your neck? The skin is all red." 

"Oh yeah. I must've brushed some poison ivy on my way back."

Flint does not look convinced. "Okay… but take care of yourself, all right? I'll come over soon, so make sure you answer your phone."


	3. A Wrong Account

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Volkner did what?

When Volkner wakes up from his power nap, the sky had begun to darken. Flint comes over in the evening. They watch Unovan sports ("Woah! The Nimbasa Zebstrikas made it to the playoffs!") while gorging on Sunyshore snacks.

Flint examines the rash around Volkner's neck. To his relief, the cause _was_ poison ivy, not demonic possession. Some hydrocortisone cream helps greatly.

After Flint's fiery persuasion, Volkner reluctantly agrees to stash the urn in his garage rather than on his nightstand. He'll refurbish it into a flowerpot tomorrow. Maybe give it to Gardenia as an early April Fool's gift.

Flint leaves around 11:43 that night. He's burnt out from shouting at the TV. Volkner doesn't bother cleaning up after himself.

When the clock hits midnight, Volkner collapses onto his bed. A hand resting on his forehead, he lies there, watching the ceiling fan wobble unsteadily in the sky.

Alas, his thoughts quiet enough for sleep to come.

* * *

_The road is wide enough for both horses and people._

_In this part of the city, squat houses of bamboo are shoved together to fit as much buildings as possible into one stretch of land. Weeds and trees and trash line the cracked concrete. To the right is the sweet fragrance of millet while the left holds the fishy tang of urine._

_I take a break from my work, turning off my concentration to listen idly to passing conversation. Accountants recording their purchases. Trade being expanded into the country across the sea. The feud between rival clans had finally exploded into civil war._

_Setting my tools aside, I examine the finished product. Perfect. The client will be most satisfied._

_The red lantern sways, signaling the arrival of a customer. Ah. It's a different gentleman, but a familiar face nonetheless._

_I present the doll. Hair like autumn leaves, a kimono as bold as a phoenix's plume, just as commissioned. The client, a father, asks for one more for his son._

_"You think too highly of me," I say to his praise. "It is my master who deserves your kind words."_

"What do you mean?"

_"I beg your pardon?"_

"Volks, what are you saying?"

_"Who? I am not…"_

"HEY! DUDE, WAKE UP! VOLKNER!!"

* * *

Volkner doesn't wake up until Flint kicks him off the bed.

"Volks, you weren't picking up your phone!" the latter cries. "I was so worried that I had to use your emergency key—"

"You STOLE my key?!"

"Huh? You gave it to me. At our last Christmas exchange, remember? You were too lazy to buy a present, so you gave me a copy of…

"T-That's not important! You gave me a fright!" There are tears brimming in Flint's grey eyes. "I thought… I thought that urn claimed you, man! I was about to call a shaman…"

Despite everything, Volkner can't help but smirk at his friend's panic. "I haven't taken that thing out of the garage." He absently massages his hands. _Why do they hurt as if I've done 500 pushups?_ "Hey, I had the weirdest dream last night."

"No kidding. Want to talk about it over brunch?"

Volkner glances at his clock. "It's that late already?"

Flint gestures for his friend to follow. "Volkes, you sure are a talented guy. I never knew you took up woodworking!"

"What?"

"What?" Flint echoes innocently. "I admit, those dolls were creepy at first, but when I looked at them again, they're actually pretty cute!"

An icy finger taps Volkner's heart. "D-Dolls?" Without knowing why, he sprints into his living room. What he sees turns his innards into ice.

"You even cleaned up your place!" Flint continues, beaming like a proud parent. "So _that's_ what your floor looks like!"

"Who put away my junk?!" Volkner screeches. "Now I have to find everything again!" To his dismay, all his junk has been tucked into their respective shelves and cabinets. His house is his workplace, not a damn museum.

Flint is looking at him oddly.

Volkner trips over something small and wooden. A doll. One with hair as red as burning leaves, a robe as colorful as a mystical bird's plume.

"Nice kimono!" Flint whistles.

But Volkner is staring at the doll as if it's a chalice of delicious poison. "I made this in my dream!" he hisses.

Flint raises his eyebrows. "Wow. You take sleepwalking to a new level."

"T-This must be some kind of latent ninja power!" Volkner tries to replicate his result. The whittling knife spins out of his grasp.

"I guess you're only a prodigy during sleep!" Flint says. "Anyhow, you mind if I took a doll home? It wouldn't hurt to give Buck a new friend."

* * *

After a loaded meal of Flint's omelet rice _(he should seriously come over just to cook),_ Flint drags Volkner outside for some sunshine.

_The sun is so damn bright._ It's so hot that he feels like he might spontaneously combust.

"Don't be such a downer!" Flint says. "This is Sunyshore, the city bathed in sunshine! We beat Snowpoint in all aspects!"

"The rest of Sinnoh thinks we're a bunch of surfer dudes. That, or a bunch of stuck-up geniuses."

"Ho!"

The friends turn to see an elderly gentleman running up to them.

"Good afternoon!" Flint beams. Volkner adds in a grunt.

"You two make a nice pair!" hollers the jogger. "Back to slouching, Volkner?"

Said man frowns. "I slouch all day, every day!"

"What a shame. You looked so dignified last night."

Volkner's eye twitches. He straightens. "W-What do you mean, 'last night?'"

The jogger arches an eyebrow. "I was jogging along the beach—it's cooler at night, see? I saw you, standing near the shoreline like this." He clasps his hands behind his back. "You looked troubled, so I asked if you were all right.

"You gave me this weird look, as if you've just seen an alien!" A hearty laugh. "Then you said were you just looking at the stars. I never knew you were into stargazing!"

Flint snorts. "Volkner? Stargaze? Dude, you said so yourself you'd rather watch paint dry!"

Something about the old man's words refuse to sit well with Volkner. "Are you sure?" he says. "Because I was sleeping in my room."

"Of course I'm sure! I might be old, but who could mistake The Shining, Shocking Star for another whippersnapper? Yes, it was definitely you. You even had your jacket zipped up all the way too."

"I did _what?"_

"Yes! Then you asked me if I'd like to hear a haiku about a shooting star."

"Hi… what?"

"Haiku," Flint grunts. "A type of poem with a syllabic structure… Why are you looking at me like that? I read books!"

The jogger chuckles. "Anyhow, thank you for the wonderful haiku. I'll see you too later!"

And he's gone.

Flint turns to his friend. "Color me surprised, Volker! You're a closet history nerd? You and Lucian should grab lunch someday!"

But Volkner is still too stunned to reply. _That geezer must've gone senile! ME? Poetry? Sweater zipped up all the way? Hell, that's a different person entirely!_

_No, I'm certain I was inside the whole time… Didn't I make those dolls in my sleep?_

"Volks?" Flint's voice snaps him back to the present. "What's up?"

"Nothing," is the quiet reply. "I think I'll go to sleep early today."


End file.
